


Sex You Up

by agape_eternal



Category: Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-07
Updated: 2008-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agape_eternal/pseuds/agape_eternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an interesting photoshoot, Ryan and Michael have a little fun. Sorta based on the Mens Journal thing, the fact that simmers are supposed to be the most sexually active of all athletes, and this photoshoot they did at my college, minus our fave swimmers of course LOL</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex You Up

Michael stands at the window of his hotel room, arms folded over his chest, looking out across the Los Angeles sky line. He wonders if it’s true that jet lag is when your mortal soul is still in limbo behind you, wherever you left it last, dangling by some invisible umbilical cord, leaving you waiting and longing for it like lost luggage. He wonders this for two reasons: one, it’s described in the current book he’s reading (one Whitney recommended), and two because he’s so damn tired right now he swears he could scream. Yet he’s restless and can’t sleep, which makes it all the worse. He figures he could really use a pool right now, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the people that would probably accompany the one downstairs.

His mind is just as restless and drifts as he wonders if it’s more than just the jet lag, but partly about tomorrow’s photoshoot, which he’s both excited and nervous for. They haven’t been told yet what it’s for or about…the only information he’s armed with is that the shoot is called, “Sex You Up” which leaves him wondering just what in the hell they could be doing that would even fit that title. Then again, when they’ve got the US Mens Swim Team together, there are always reasons to be afraid. He relaxes a little at the click of his door. Only one person ever ends up with this room key, besides Bob, and he can tell by the footsteps who it is.

“Jeah!” Ryan’s voice sounds out as he closes the door behind him. The two of them are like lovers sometimes Michael would say, in a nonsexual way of course. But their boy-boy lego doesn’t fit on anything save for the friendship base and Michael’s not exactly sure how he feels about that or why he should feel _anything_ about it. Like Ryan is the Damien to his Cayce, there’s this insulated module of immaturity in him, some shy and stubborn thing that makes other people treat him like he’s slow, something only he seems to get and deal with accordingly. He almost forgets that Ryan has spoken until another ‘jeah’ rings out.

“Jeah.”

“Ready for tomorrow?” he asks as he falls back on his friend’s bed. Michael is suddenly acutely aware of the creaking sound it makes.

“No. It sounds…weird.”

“What? Your bed or the shoot?”

“The shoot…”

Ryan laughs softly. “That’s because you’re prude.”

Michael rolls his eyes as he turns to face Ryan. He finds himself drawn to the other mans hand as it rubs small circles on his chest—makes a mental note that he’s shirtless. He’s learned from being friends with Ryan so long that his chest is sensitive…

He blinks a few times, pulling his eyes back to his friends face—just avoids getting sidetracked by staring at his too-red lips—and wonders to himself just why in the hell he remembers something like that and furthermore, why it’s fascinating him something fierce at the moment.

“I’m not a prude,” he hears himself saying, but it sounds far away, as his eyes slip back down to watch Ryan’s hand again, almost getting caught on his mouth when he licks his lips.

“You are too.”

“No, I’m not just overly sexual like you other pervs.”

“We know you’re plenty sexual, you’re just a prude.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does,” Ryan informs him as he pulls his hand from his chest and sits up. Michael can tell by his tone he’s in for an explanation that may or not make sense in a Ryan Lochte sort of way.

“No it doesn’t,” he challenges. He figures if he’s in for it, he might as well make it worth it.

“Yes it does.”

“How?”

“See, you’ll DO it, you just can’t stand talking about it.”

Well fuck, there goes the ‘it won’t make sense.’ If they’re keeping score, MP 0, RL 1.

  
“That’s not true,” Michael insists, but his cheeks are slightly rosy. He’s honestly not sure if it’s from watching Ryan or the conversation, and that’s a bit scary to him.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m hot.”

“That’s established, yes.”

“Just turn on the cooler.”

“Magic word?”

“Do it or I’ll kick your ass.”

“That’s actually…” Ryan takes the time to count, “seven words but it’ll do,” he smirks as he does as he’s told.

“Smart ass,” Michael retorts, wondering if he should bother mentioning that it and or are particulates.

“Isn’t it lovely?” Ryan asks over his shoulder with a smirk, but it turns to a frown slightly when he sees Michael’s facing the window again. He goes over and places his chin on the area where Michael’s neck meets his shoulder, causing his teammate to jump slightly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Just asking,” Ryan shrugs as he places a hand on Michael’s hip and turns his gaze towards the same city skyline. They stand there for a while, watching the cars go by, looking like nothing but little streams of light. But Michael doesn’t admit he’s really looking at Ryan’s reflection in the mirror, occasionally glancing away when he can tell Ryan is about to look up. Michael eventually pulls away and flops down on his bed.

“What time are we supposed to be going out for dinner?”

“Another hour or so why?”

“Just making sure we’re not late. You’re always late.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you really are.”

Ryan just snorts and lays on his stomach beside Michael. “What’s up? You seem off tonight.”

“Nothing’s up. Really.”

Ryan sighs. “If you say so.”

“I say so. Wake me up when it’s time to leave.”

Ryan frowns but doesn’t say anything, just rolls over and tosses his arm over his eyes.  
=============  
They eventually make their way to dinner and Michael tries to get a seat anywhere but near Ryan but in the end he ends up right next to him and about as close as humanly possible without being in his lap.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan whispers halfway through dinner. It makes Michael shiver slightly, the sudden realization of Ryan’s proximity, the way his breath dances over his skin and that makes him blush which in turn makes Ryan even more curious.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah. I’m tired.”

“Tired?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Right.”

Michael doesn’t elaborate, just makes his way to the door as quickly as possible since Aaron and a couple of others decide dinner’s over. He doesn’t speak to Ryan—who decides to take the seat next to him—the entire ride back to the hotel and gets to his room before the older man can corner him again. He knows Ryan probably thinks he’s done something but right now Michael doesn’t think it’s a good idea to be near him.  
=============  
“I think he’s pissed at me,” Ryan tells Aaron as they battle against each other on their PSP’s.

“Who?”

“Michael.”

“What’d you do to him? Take his iPod away?”

“No…he’s just been acting weird lately. I mean today he kept jumping around me.”

“Dunno,” Aaron shrugs as he passes Ryan on the video racetrack.

“Me either…I think it’s the photoshoot Tomorrow.”

“He’s a prude…and bitchy, what do’you expect?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“He’s probably just in a mood, let it alone. I win.”

“You cheated…”

“How?”

“You knew I wasn’t paying attention.”

“And your point would be exactly what?”

“Asshole. I’m going to bed.”

“Such a sore loser Ry-ry…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You let Michael.”

“Shut up.”

Ryan gets up and retreats to his own room wondering just what he’s done to piss off Michael.  
=============  
The next morning, Ryan is woken up by a grumpy looking Aaron telling him to hurry the fuck up and not to make them late. Ryan just rolls his eyes and does as he’s told because he really doesn’t feel like fighting with Aaron when he’s acting bitchy.

He joins the rest of the team down at breakfast and finds Michael has managed to get between Aaron and Ian which leaves him slightly puzzled.

“Morning…”

He gets a few grumbles back but Michael doesn’t look up so he just sits next to Ian and focuses on his breakfast and his frustration.  
=============  
The ride to the photo studio is slightly tense. Ryan manages to snag the seat next to Michael but he’s so stiff it’s not funny and Ryan feels slightly bad for him.

When they arrive Michael’s anxiety is noticeable. When the photographer comes in, Michael goes into professional mode; all traces of fear are gone as he listens carefully.

“Ok guys, so the idea of today’s shoot is ‘Sex You Up.’ So we’re gonna have you pair off in two’s to see who you have the most chemistry with and then we’re gonna pair you up and take some photos alright?”

They all nod and go off. Ian doesn’t choose Aaron right away, but takes pity on Michael. The photographer right away tells them to change and Michael rushes for Aaron.

“No, no, that’s not working. Ryan, you and Aaron are goon and you and Ian are ok. Michael, so far you don’t really mesh with anyone. But let me see you two together here.”

The only indication that Michael’s displeased is long gone, a flash of emotion too quick to the untrained eye, but Ryan catches it and frowns. He lets himself be guided to a wall, Ryan suddenly placed in front of him.

“Just let it be natural ok? Don’t force it. Trust me, it’ll come.” Michael isn’t entirely sure that one: this is going to work, and two: of what he’s supposed to be doing. He’s not sure he quite understands just what the fuck Bob and his agent were thinking when they decided this was a good idea.

“What do I do?”

“Just…put your hands on him, anywhere. Wherever first comes to mind. Just let it be natural ok? You guys are great friends, this shouldn’t be a problem.”

Not a problem? In what fucking world? They’re FRIENDS, not…you know, anything else…even if they like to hug and touch each other a lot. Michael thinks it’s best to leave out what he calls tummy time since that just makes his argument even feebler. He looks over and for the first time realizes it’s just the photographer and them, Ian, Aaron and the other keeping themselves entertained. He thinks this could possibly be dangerous…and he kind of likes it.

He takes a deep breath and looks back at Ryan. He’s always good at getting in the mindset he should be for whatever it is they’re doing—because on countless occasions he’s had photoshoots where he’s had to act like he really thinks he’s good looking and he’ll be damned if those kids in junior high and high school didn’t fuck his self-esteem into the ground—and this is no different.

So he blocks out everything else and makes it about just the two of them, which is easy since his life is kinda just the two of them…and swimming. He can faintly make out the photographer telling Ryan it’s ok to touch him too, but he knows Ryan won’t, he knows Ryan’s waiting on his cue. There’s a quiet challenge flashing in Ryan’s eyes and with the first touch of Michael’s hand on his hip, they both know it’s met.

Michael slowly moves his hand to Ryan’s stomach and smirks at the sharp intake of breath from the other man. He can barely make out the sound of the camera shutter, but that doesn’t really matter right now. He feels Ryan put his fingers through his belt loops and pull him closer.

They’re nose to nose, a small hesitation as Michael decides whether to kiss the other man or not before he thinks twice and ducks his head slightly, nuzzling Ryan’s neck and making him sigh softly. They’re both now oblivious to the camera still snapping away at every move they make.

Michael feels Ryan’s hand slip beneath his shirt at the base of his spine and draw small circles as he nips at Ryan’s neck. He has to admit he likes this, and by the sudden shiver from Ryan, he can guess he likes it too. He starts placing butterfly kisses on the other mans neck up to his chin before he manages to capture Ryan’s arms and place them above his head.

He searches the older man’s eyes for any sign of resistance or discomfort, but all he finds is that Ryan’s eyes have suddenly gone very dark and he watches as he licks his lips slowly, he guesses more for show than anything else because he’s got the sexiest mouth Michael has ever seen with that pouty-red look. He feels as Ryan lifts his hips against him slightly.

Something in the way he does it captures Michael. He couldn’t tell you what or why if his life depended on it, but something does. He’s not sure who moves first but he’s very much aware when their lips collide for the first time. He feels Ryan tense slightly before melting against him. It’s slow at first, but the heat that Michael is trying to keep at bay—seeing as he does still remember they’re in front of people—is working its way in and he swears that when Ryan lets out a soft moan in the back of this throat he’s damn near done for.

He lets Ryan’s arms go in favor of playing with his hair and gets an interesting reaction indeed. He’s done this before, accidentally though…no really, he’s for real. He was just rubbing Ryan’s head because he had a headache and discovered his hair is a very sexual place. Go figure. He feels Ryan grip his hips painfully hard, enough to know they’ll be fingertip shaped bruises there, but he doesn’t care. He deepens the kiss as he tugs ever so lightly on his hair.

Michael’s suddenly more than confused when all movement stills, Ryan’s hands have dropped and he’s pulling out of the kiss, skin slightly gleaming, face red, and panting. He looks from the photographer to Michael and makes for the bathroom, notably walking a bit waddled, arms folded over his chest. Michael can tell he’s closing up. No one notices that Ryan can be just as intense as Michael sometimes and he has his own shell he goes into when he’s put into a situation that throws him off his game.

MP 1, RL 1.

“Get what you needed?” Michael asks the photographer, still watching Ryan walk off.

“Yeah, you two are great together.”

“I want copies of those.”

“Uhm…right, yeah of course.”

“E-mail them to me?”

“Right yeah…”

Michael just nods—realizing halfway through that he has no fucking clue what they’re supposed to be advertising—and follows Ryan. When he finds him he’s standing in the mirror of the bathroom running his hand under cold water and rubbing it over his face and neck.

“Hey.” It’s Ryan’s turn to jump and he does slightly before turning in Michael’s direction.

“Hey.”

“That was…interesting.”

“Yeah…”

Neither knows quite what to say but Michael knows he honestly would love nothing more than to go over and start kissing him again. He also knows that with the given time, with the given situation, that’s not the best idea, so he doesn’t. His pattern recognition is taking over and he just moves closer to Ryan. The older man doesn’t make any move to back away.

Before Michael can make a move or say anything, Aaron’s in the door telling them it’s time to go. Ryan says they’re coming and pulls Michael out by his shirt.

“We really need to talk,” Michael tells him as he follows.

“Yeah. But back at the hotel ok?”

Michael just nods and follows him to the waiting car.  
=============  
When they get back to the hotel, Ryan follows Michael to his room and stretches out on the bed.

“That was kinda fun, don’t you think?” he asks as Michael kicks off his shoes.

“Yeah…it was interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“It was nice.”

“Nice…”

“Will you stop repeating me?”

“Yeah, sorry…” Ryan mutters.

“Sorry, I’m just a little…riled up I guess.”

“I can tell.”

“I’m tired…let’s just got to sleep.” He looks at Ryan and can tell he’s slightly put out so he adds, “Jeah?”

Ryan chews his bottom lip but nods. He figures a little sleep might not be such a bad thing.

“Jeah.”  
=============  
Ryan likes it best when Ian, Aaron, and the others decide to have “Club” night and leave him and Michael alone in the hotel room. Normally, Michael would have his headphones on and be absorbed in whatever he’s doing, but tonight, since it’s just the two of them, he’s sans earphones.

Ryan doesn’t think too much when he hears Michael’s alert for a new e-mail—smiling because it’s Lil’ Wayne—just turns back to his own computer and the game he’s playing. He does, however, notice when Michael stiffens slightly.

“What’s up?”

Michael shakes his head, but he can see that he’s flicking through something, probably pictures by the way he’s studying the screen and using the arrow keys.

Ryan grumbles as he gets an alert himself, interrupting his Texas Hold ‘Em.

He’s surprised to see the message is from the photographer with an attachment of pictures.

“Just thought you’d want to see how they came out.

They’re really nice. I e-mailed copies to Michael as well.

Ttyl, David.”

There’s a slight hesitancy to open the file, but he downloads it from his e-mail and opens it anyway.

He’s struck at the flood of emotions that come over him as he examines the first picture. It’s nothing really, just them standing and staring at each other, his back against the wall. But it sends a chill through his body, one he can’t quite justify other than to say he wouldn’t mind being back there. He keeps flipping and about looses it at the pictures of them locked in a heated kiss. Ryan swears his lips are tingling as he stares at his computer screen.

“You got them too, didn’t you?” Michael’s voice suddenly cuts across the silence.

“Huh?”

“The pictures, you got them too didn’t you?”

“Uh…” It takes a second for Ryan’s brain to connect again. “Oh yeah, yeah…”

“I could tell.”

“How?”

Michael just gestures to the tent in Ryan’s sweat bottoms.

“Oh…right, sorry…” Ryan mutters and sets his computer aside.

“It’s cool.” Michael follows suit.

“Sorry I just walked out on the shoot like that man, but—”

“I don’t blame you…it was getting a bit…”

“Yeah…”

Ryan smiles slightly at him as their eyes lock. He has enough time to register he can move if he wants too, but he doesn’t. So when Michael’s lips are on his, he doesn’t pretend this isn’t what he’s been wanting since they left that photoshoot. He moans softly and pulls Michael closer. He doesn’t plan on going anywhere this time and he doesn’t want Michael to get any ideas of leaving either.

But Michael’s got his own ideas, and none of them consist of leaving the room. He wiggles slightly free of Ryan’s grip and slinks down. He undoes the knot in the string of Ryan’s sweatpants as Ryan lifts his hips to help in their removal. He watches as Michael slowly pulls them down with his teeth and then off. Ryan knows where this is going and he oddly has no objections. If this were anyone else, he’d had knocked the shit out of them already. But this is Michael…he’s the exception to every rule he’s ever made.

Michael shakes his head with that sly smile as he finds Ryan exactly as he expects to, sans underwear. He can hear the heaviness in Ryan’s breathing as starts pressing soft kisses on his lower belly, making his way down slowly.

Ryan swears this can’t get any better, but he knows it will. He pushes the thought of wondering who else Michael has done this with out of his mind. He doesn’t want to ruin this, that sappy shit can come later. Right now he just wants to enjoy the fact that Michael’s leaving a hickey on his inner thigh.

He gasps quietly when he feels Michael nose the base of his swollen cock. The younger man chuckles softly and the vibrations are almost too much. He tries to steady himself but it doesn’t help that Michael’s decided now’s a good time to start placing soft kisses up his cock.

“Fuck, Michael,” Ryan half-moans, and Michael has to steady his own self at the sudden huskiness in Ryan’s voice.

“Mmm,” Michael just murmurs in response and smiles at the hiss Ryan makes.

He knows Ryan is about to protest, can feel it in the way he moves. So instead of letting him, he kisses the tip of the older man’s cock and sucks it into his mouth. He feels Ryan’s hand grip his hair, but he doesn’t really care and he’s not going to be pushed.

He takes his time, savoring his movement as though this might just be the last, and only time, they do this. He hopes it isn’t, but you can never be sure of anything because life has no guarantees so he goes slowly. He also loves how crazy it’s making Ryan. He’s got him in practically begging stage and he LOVES it.

Ryan swears Michael must be out to kill him…he HAS to be. But he figures if this is torture, then chain him to fucking the wall. He moans out Michael’s name louder than he means to when he finally starts sucking in earnest.

Ryan doesn’t want to think about the fact that Michael’s practically an expert at this, so much so he doesn’t need his hands at all. So one ends up on his stomach rubbing small circles—because Michael just KNOWS how much Ryan loves that—and the other ends up lightly tracing his balls.

Ryan takes the chance of raising his head enough to watch Michael’s perfect mouth stretched over his cock, sucking with everything he’s got and loving every second. He instantly wonders why in the hell he did that because it brings him right to the brink.

Michael can tell Ryan isn’t going to last much longer and honestly, his own cock is getting to that painful stage. So he takes the opportunity to catch the older man off guard and deep throats him. He moans around Ryan’s cock as he comes almost instantly. Michael sucks him for what he’s worth before pulling away.

MP 2, RL 1.

“Fuck…” is the only thing out of Ryan’s mouth and Michael smiles.

“All right?”

“Yeah…”

“Good.”

Ryan manages to open his eyes long enough to look up at him. He bites his tongue to keep from saying the first thing that pops into his head. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it’s not exactly the same and right now it might be just too damn sincere. He glances down at Michael’s lap and smiles.

“Looks like I should return the favor…”

“I was hoping for something else actually…”

Ryan doesn’t respond right away and he notices a flash of worry fleet across Michael’s features. Michael’s not the most secure person in the world—give him an inch and he’ll take 10 miles…over-fucking-achiever. They sit there looking at each other for a while before Ryan leans up and kisses him. It’s not fast like their others, but slow and languid. It’s a kiss of permission, trust…love.

It doesn’t take long for both of them to be free of clothes. Ryan doesn’t even ask why Michael has lube. He honestly doesn’t want to know at this point. The only thing he wants to know is that Michael isn’t going to stop at just one finger. And he doesn’t much to Ryan’s happiness.

Ryan thinks anyone that hears him at this point is probably thinking Michael is fucking some chick with the way he’s moaning but he doesn’t give a shit, really. Because when Michael slides into him he swears it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever felt in his life.

He makes a noise akin to a sob I guess you could say, and at first Michael is slightly worried, but he can tell, almost instantly, that Ryan is just fine, because he’s got it like that and he can say—with the upmost confidence—that no one knows Ryan like he does. He leans down and kisses Ryan’s already swollen lips as he pulls out and makes his first thrust.

Michael feels the older man’s blunt nails dig into his back as he thrusts again. He looks down at him; head tossed back, mouth open and panting, slightly sweaty and pink-faced, and swears Ryan’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

He likes how open Ryan is for him right now, more than he’d probably care to admit. Ryan is moaning about as bitchy as you could get but he doesn’t care, that’s obvious and Michael LOVES it, loves that Ryan is this into it that he just lets himself go.

He feels him tense and tighten around him which is enough to bring Michael to his own orgasm.

“Fuck Ryan…” Michael moans as he comes hard. Ryan helps his ride out his orgasm as he practically collapses on top of him. He stops himself as he realizes he’s rubbing Michael’s back. He’s not sure how Michael views this and he’d rather play it safe than fuck it up.

They lay there for awhile in silence, a tangle of sweaty limbs, before Michael gently pulls out.

“You ok?” he murmurs softly and Ryan just nods. “Sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m good.”

Michael nods and lays on his side next to him. “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seem off…”

“I’m fine.”

Michael leans over and kisses him softly. It’s different this time Ryan notes. He’s not sure what’s different, and it’s not bad—better actually—but something is. Michael kisses him again and Ryan loses himself in it enough to murmur, “I love you.”

He feels the panic rise, but doesn’t bother showing it, figures if that’s gonna run Michael off then oh fucking well. It’s not like he _meant_ to say it, which is almost worse if you really think about it.

Michael just smiles. “Love you too.” He pulls Ryan into his side. He’s not really sure how they got to this point, when they crossed this line—not physically, but mentally, because it was obviously a lot earlier than that damned photoshoot—but he thinks he likes the fact that it was simple and straightforward. They love each other, they’re together, end of story. No fussing, no fighting, no bitching. No excuses, no apologies, no regrets. It’s simple and clear cut and he thinks you couldn’t ask for anything, or anyone, better.

MP 2, RL 2.

x-posted to [](http://olympic-slash.livejournal.com/profile)[**olympic_slash**](http://olympic-slash.livejournal.com/) & [](http://phelpsphiction.livejournal.com/profile)[**phelpsphiction**](http://phelpsphiction.livejournal.com/)


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